


Please Mind The Doors

by Cerberusia



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Chikan, Dubious Consent, Groping, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The train sets off again and Makoto watches gray tunnel walls whizz past, projecting 'back the fuck off' as strongly as he can.</p>
<p>Not strongly enough, apparently, because someone manages to plaster themselves right up against his back. What the fuck, it's not <i>that</i> crowded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Mind The Doors

Urgh, Tokyo trains at rush hour. Makoto grimaces as yet more people crowd into the train car, squeezing himself tighter against the door. Basketball practice usually lets him avoid this, but he's under orders to get home earlier today for his little sister's birthday, so the Namboku line it is. It's only an eleven-minute journey: it'll be unpleasant while it lasts, but at least it won't be for long.

The train sets off again and Makoto watches gray tunnel walls whizz past, projecting 'back the fuck off' as strongly as he can.

Not strongly enough, apparently, because someone manages to plaster themselves right up against his back. What the fuck, it's not _that_ crowded.

A hand reaches around him to brace its owner against the door; a huge, long-fingered hand. Makoto knows that hand.

"Hanamiya-kun," says Kiyoshi warmly in his ear. Well, well, well.

"Kiyoshi-kun," he replies mildly. "How strange to see you here." There's no way Kiyoshi lives in Azabu; hell, if he goes to Seirin he's probably right at the other end of the city.

"I'm visiting an aunt," explains Kiyoshi amiably, not budging. "I gather that you're on your way home."

"So I am," says Makoto in that same sweet, insincere tone. "You want to back off a little? You're a big guy, but I'm sure you don't have to stand _that_ close."

"Mm, you're probably right, Hanamiya-kun," agrees Kiyoshi, and that's when Makoto knows that it's all about to go to shit. Kiyoshi didn't seem like the vengeful type last time they met, and definitely not the violent type, but he definitely means to do _something_.

"What, you planning on groping me? Wouldn't have taken you for a _chikan_." He expects stammered denials and perhaps some laughter, but his heart rate increases as Kiyoshi's silence speaks volumes. Then Kiyoshi bends or something, because his breath hits Makoto's ear and neck. After a moment, something touches the shell of his ear; Makoto takes a second to realise that it's Kiyoshi's tongue.

So Kiyoshi wants to play dangerous? Fine: Makoto plays more dangerously than anyone. He spreads his legs a little and waits to see if Kiyoshi will actually go ahead. If this is a game of chicken, he's going to win.

One warm hand comes to rest on his hip, the other on his abdomen. Makoto hates that his breathing picks up at that - they're just so _big_. The hand on his abdomen gradually slides down, setting off sparks in the pit of Makoto's stomach. He shouldn't be this turned on when they haven't even got to the groping part yet, but Kiyoshi's big hot hand resting just above his belt is making him so hot that he has to breathe through his nose so his breath won't hitch. He inclines his head so his hair covers his face in case anyone looks their way.

Slowly, so slowly, Kiyoshi's palm comes to rest on the placket of his trousers. He rubs over the bulge of Makoto's half-hard cock with the heel of his hand, and Makoto has to bite his lip as those long fingers curl around and _squeeze_. Kiyoshi's other hand is petting his arse, which is nice, but if he'd just dig his nails in and leave claw marks it'd be perfect. He might do it if Makoto asked, but Makoto's still trying to cling to the illusion that he's not all that into it and that this isn't the most turned-on he's ever been.

"You a virgin or something? I'm not even resisting, come the fuck on," he says in an undertone, hoping it sounds like a taunt rather than a plea.

Kiyoshi pauses a moment, then uses both hands to swiftly undo Makoto's belt and trousers. The rattling of the train on its tracks covers the metallic sound. Makoto grabs onto the rail for balance and digs his teeth deeper into his lip, but still a little _hng!_ escapes as Kiyoshi's fingers creep under his waistband and take hold of his bare cock.

Kiyoshi is pretty confident about having his hand on another guy's dick; Makoto is momentarily irritated with himself for not having spotted him as a shirt-lifter earlier, but right now the feeling of Kiyoshi's huge hand enveloping him from root to tip is a more pressing concern. Kiyoshi's taking it slow, dragging the foreskin over the head on every stroke. Makoto grits his teeth and tries not to squirm. He'd assumed that Kiyoshi would be too moral and just too plain nice to go through with groping someone he hates on a train, and he's now bitterly regretting how badly he underestimated him. He's meant to be better than this!

The train goes round a bend and Makoto feels Kiyoshi lean on him to keep his balance. Quite aside from how good Kiyoshi's weight feels pinning him to the door, he can feel that he's not the only one turned on by this. He presses his arse into Kiyoshi's crotch: there's no way Kiyoshi can actually fuck him on this train, so he can just enjoy getting Kiyoshi hot and bothered with no way to relieve it.

Hot breath hits his ear as Kiyoshi sighs in pleasure and starts grinding against Makoto's arse. His hand is hot on Makoto's thigh through his trousers, keeping him in place. Makoto knows he's enjoying this more than is safe and that he should try harder to humiliate Kiyoshi - oh, to see Kiyoshi cry would probably make him come right away - but Kiyoshi's big hands feel too good for him to pretend to be unaffected.

"Screw basketball," he hisses so that only Kiyoshi can hear him, "clearly your _real_ talent is handjobs. Jerk off other boys in public often, do you?"

Kiyoshi chuckles in his ear.

"No, I suppose it must just be natural talent." His voice is slightly strained. Good. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, Hanamiya-kun." It's impossible to tell whether that's sarcasm or honesty.

"I've had better," mutters Makoto, which is a complete lie. Kiyoshi briefly dips his head to suck Makoto's earlobe into his mouth to lick and nibble at it, and Makoto has to close his eyes and press his lips together tightly so he doesn't say something stupid like _ungh, yes_.

"God, you're so cute," murmurs Kiyoshi, pulling slowly at Makoto's dick, and Makoto wants to make a biting retort to that but he really can't think of anything. If only Kiyoshi would _hurry up_.

"Are you going to make me come any time this century, or has all your practice not paid off?" Makoto wriggles his arse against Kiyoshi's dick in a bid to goad him. It works.

"Why, Hana-chan, what are you implying about my maidenly virtue?" Makoto has numerous sharp retorts to _that_ , beginning with _what the fuck did you just call me_ , but Kiyoshi suddenly starts squeezing his cock tighter and jerking it faster and Makoto has to go back to biting his lip so he doesn't make any embarrassing noises. Fuck, this isn't under his control any more.

The automated voice announces a station two stops from his, and Makoto starts to worry, just a little. He's pressed against the doors which will open for his stop: that's why he picked this side of the carriage when he first got on. They've only got five minutes: is Kiyoshi's plan to make him so hot and bothered he can't think, then leave him hanging? Or, hell, given that Kiyoshi is apparently much slyer than Makoto gave him credit for, perhaps he's trying to time it so Makoto comes right as the doors open?

Four minutes. Shit, shit, shit.

"Stop it," he hisses at Kiyoshi, one hand letting go of the rail to pull at his forearm. "Someone's going to see!"

Kiyoshi doesn't stop. He just keeps pulling at Makoto's cock, a little faster than before.

"Kiyoshi!" Makoto snarls under his breath, trying to attract Kiyoshi's attention without also getting anybody else's.

"If you don't want people to see, be quieter," says Kiyoshi in his ear. But he _can't_ be quieter, he can't shut himself up now he's opened his mouth. He prays the noise of the train is covering his fast little gasps, that everyone's too busy with their own lives to notice one abnormally tall teenager with his hand down another boy's pants.

Just in time, he manages to grab a hank of his own hair in his mouth and bite it as Kiyoshi jerks him to completion with a choked-down moan, his hips spasming, come spurting into his underwear. That's going to be disgusting when it cools; Makoto hopes it doesn't soak through into his trousers. He clings to the rail, breathing heavily, as Kiyoshi gently zips his trousers up and refastens his belt, albeit on the wrong hole.

" _Shirokanedai_ ," announces the automated, stilted voice, and Makoto stumbles out onto the platform on shaky legs, pushing through the crowd waiting to get on so he can find a bench. He looks back briefly to see Kiyoshi, a head taller than everyone as usual, watching him with an amused and tolerant expression - though with a slight blush.

Makoto bares his teeth at him and sees Kiyoshi break into a grin just before the doors close. The _fucker_ , he'll get what's coming to him. And that something will be Makoto's dick in his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I really meant the consent to be a lot more dubious than it ended up being, but Kiyoshi just isn't that kinda guy. I suppose I'll have to write an out-and-out noncon chikan fic to make up for it. It'll be a terrible sacrifice, but someone's got to do it *raises eyes to heaven in saintly fashion*


End file.
